


In Good Hands.

by FictionalKnight (Northern_Star)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/FictionalKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For prompt #3 from my table: <i>(Who did you call when things got bad? Did they answer, did you ask? Because I would answer, I would tell you this.)</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	In Good Hands.

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt #3 from my table: _(Who did you call when things got bad? Did they answer, did you ask? Because I would answer, I would tell you this.)_

Clark took a last glance at his watch before logging out of his computer and shutting the screen off. Quickly he made for the stairs, intent on starting his evening patrol as soon as possible so that - for once - he might actually get to spend a minute or two across the bay, in Gotham, before Bruce transformed into the Dark Knight and was off for his own patrol.

Things were such in Gotham right now that Batman was on duty from early evening, right up until the sun came up. As a result, by the time Superman had been around Metropolis a few times and called it a night, Batman was already off, swooping across the rooftops of Gotham - and Bruce was still out by the time Clark had to get up and go back to Metropolis and his day job at the Daily Planet.

Being that the moratorium on Superman's presence in the skies of Gotham was still very much in effect, it had now been close to two weeks since he had caught more than a glimpse of Bruce - or Batman - and Clark was starting to wonder if there was anything he should be worried about...

Sighing as he opened the door that led to the roof, Clark pushed aside the flood of dark thoughts that was starting to invade his mind.

His cell phone vibrated just as he was about to spin into his other work clothes. He dug into his pocket and retrieved the phone, flipping it open immediately.

Before he even had time to say anything, he heard an anxious voice on the other end. "How fast can you get here?"

"Bruce?" Clark asked, halfway between surprise and confusion.

"How fast can you get here?" Bruce repeated curtly.

A few months ago, Clark would have immediately taken off to the sky, eagerly answering what he knew to be the mating call of a Bat in heat, but it had been a long time since Bruce had done anything like that. Clark went back to Gotham every night now - it was assumed; there was no need to explicitly request his presence this way anymore.

Besides, from the tone of Bruce's voice it was quite obvious that this was an actual call for _help_. Panic started bubbling in the pit of Clark's stomach. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"No. I mean... yes." Bruce sighed in frustration and Clark thought he heard some sort of gurgling sound on the other end of the line. "Just get here, Clark." There was a short pause then Bruce added, in a rather weak voice, "please?"

"Okay, give me a few seconds," Clark told him before shoving the phone back in his pocket and spinning into the blue and red spandex suit.

A few heartbeats later, he was landing at his usual spot, somewhere in a dark corner of the gardens behind Wayne Manor. Superman turned into Clark Kent once more and walked up to the house. He came in through one of the solarium doors and scanned the building immediately for the location of his companion - why waste time going from one room to another looking for someone, when he could see through walls?

Clark blinked suddenly, uncertain that he should trust his eyes. This - what he'd just seen - made no sense to him. He shook his head sharply and looked again, but the view hadn't changed: Bruce was up in the study, pacing swiftly, a look of exasperation on his face as he kept shushing the small, crying child he held in his arms.

A child...

There had to be a logical explanation to this, Clark rationalized. Babies didn't simply materialize out of thin air. Then again, since they didn't, Clark was afraid that he wasn't going to _like_ whatever logical explanation had brought this child here. Bruce's reputation wasn't completely make-believe, after all. And they'd only been together for-- Clark did the math quickly, and frowned... just a few days short of seven months. Meaning that anything was possible.

He sighed and reluctantly made for the stairs to the second floor. There wasn't much point in trying to escape the unavoidable now, he knew. Slowly he walked toward the study, the sounds of the crying baby becoming ever more piercing to his super sensitive ears.

Clark cleared his throat, standing at the door to the room. "Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked, arms crossed defensively in front of his chest.

Bruce spun around immediately and a look of relief washed over his face. "Thank goodness you're here!"

He walked over to Clark, whose feet seemed quite solidly anchored to the floor for the time being. Bruce stopped dead in his tracks, his brain having suddenly - finally - processed Clark's words.

"What--? Do I have something to tell you? No, no...she's not _mine_." Bruce shushed the baby again, but only when he started rocking her back and forth did she calm down a little bit. "Heavens no! What made you think that?"

"Oh?" Visibly relieved, Clark uncrossed his arms and gestured vaguely in the air as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "I don't know... I just thought... I mean, nine months ago, well... you know... and I thought maybe this was why you've been avoiding me lately."

"Avoiding?" Bruce frowned deeply. "I haven't been _avoiding_ you. Look, I'm sorry, I know I haven't been there a lot, but--"

Their conversation was brusquely interrupted by the baby's renewed wailing. Irritated and having had clearly enough of her, Bruce shushed her forcefully, only to be rewarded by deafeningly loud cries. He groaned helplessly, shushing her again, with the same results.

Clark hurried over to them, a look of consternation on his face. "Aww! Come here," he told the child as he took her. "It's okay, sweetie. Don't cry. Everything's okay."

He started rocking her gently and she stopped crying almost immediately. She gurgled happily when he stroked her cheek with his thumb, still whispering a litany of soothing words. He looked up to Bruce, who seemed completely astonished by this apparent miracle.

Looking back at the small child, Clark softly said, "Don't worry, the big bad Bat won't hurt you..."

"Hey!"

"He's actually pretty nice, when you get to know him better," Clark told the child before looking up at Bruce again. "You were traumatizing her, Bruce..."

"I wasn't--" Bruce protested automatically. He paused upon realizing that he'd obviously been doing a very poor job of looking after this baby. "Okay, maybe I was... But I didn't mean to! I'm completely lost here, or haven't you noticed? Alfred's not around and I don't know the first thing about caring for a child."

Clearly amused by this statement, Clark chuckled. "I sure hope Child Services never hears you say that, seeing as though they let you care for and _adopt_ \-- how many, now? Three boys?"

"Har, har." Bruce sneered. "When _they_ showed up, they could walk, talk, dress _and_ feed themselves. She's...barely more than a couple months old. I'm not fit to take care of her, trust me."

"Oh, I believe you." Clark struggled to keep from laughing. "How did she end up here, anyway? And does she have a name?"

"Dick dropped her off a few hours ago--" Bruce chuckled at Clark's surprised expression. "No, no, she's not _his_ either. Wow, you keep jumping to all the wrong conclusions... He found her crying in an alley, lying next to her mother who was OD'ed on heroin. The mother didn't make it. Kid spent a few days in ICU, has no next of kin that could be located, and her birth wasn't registered, so there's no telling who the father is, or what her name might be. Apparently the ICU nurses were calling her Jade for the color of the blanket she was wrapped in." Bruce shrugged. "Dick somehow managed to get them to release her into his care temporarily. Go figure."

"Seems like taking in strays is a family trait," Clark commented, lowering his voice to keep from waking little Jade who'd just barely fallen asleep.

"Hey, I never--" At Clark's smirk, Bruce amended, "All right, all right, don't say it, I've done the same. Three times."

"Yep. Like father, like son."

Clark tucked a corner of the blanket under Jade's chin and smiled fondly at the small bundle sleeping in his arms. Poor little thing had been through a lot in the past few days, and he was thankful for the fact that she was now in a safe place, with people who could offer her better care.

Bruce eyed them for a moment, wondering how Clark had managed - in the span of just a few minutes - to get baby Jade to actually calm down and sleep. Of course that was why he'd called Clark in the first place... _Superman_ and _children_ was about as easy an association to make as _Santa_ and _children_. Though somehow Bruce hadn't anticipated that Clark would make it look so damn easy.

He forced his mind to ignore the fact that the almost idyllic picture before him was somehow bringing up feelings of jealousy and...something else he wasn't willing to acknowledge.

Shaking his head, Bruce tore his eyes away from the scene. He shouldn't be thinking about this... Because it wasn't going to _happen_. Clark looked happy, sure. Happier than Bruce had seen him in weeks, even. But there was no way they were going to keep this child. No, no. Not this one. He'd kept the last three - he'd done his part. He wouldn't even bring the subject up in conversation. No way. Because he knew if he did... if he did, he'd end up caving and agreeing to whatever Clark wanted - just as always. And this...was _not_ happening.

"Thanks for helping me out," Bruce eventually said. "I desperately need to go down to the cave, but I couldn't very well bring her there with me. Besides, you should have heard her scream when--"

Having suddenly understood the meaning behind Bruce's words, Clark protested, "Wait a second! This is why you called me? So you could pawn her off on me and go...finish your investigation, maybe go out on patrol once you're done, too?"

"Dick should be back soon, and--"

"I can't believe you actually called me to baby-sit," Clark mumbled as he carefully started walking over to the sofa. He was just about certain that putting Jade down in the cradle he'd spotted on the antique mahogany desk would only wake her up again, but if he was going to have to hold her for a while, he might as well be comfortable doing it. "You figured you'd just drop her off in my lap, like Dick dropped her in yours? That's... Seriously! You're obscenely rich; you could get a nanny here within minutes - an army of them. But no, you call me. What about _my_ patrol? _My_ evening? That doesn't count, does it?"

Wide-eyed, Bruce tried to explain. "I-- no. That's not it. That wasn't... No!" He took a deep breath, using the pause to order his thoughts.

Pacing the room nervously, he went on, careful to keep his voice down enough so that he wouldn't wake the baby up again. "I picked up the phone and called the first person I could think of. And that was you, because... well because it's _always_ you. I wasn't thinking and I hadn't planned, and, yeah for a short second there when I dialed, my only thought was something along the lines of _'help, Superman! '_ "

Bruce shrugged. Why bother denying that he'd been desperate for help when he'd placed that call - Clark already knew it perfectly well. "Besides, I only need a few minutes downstairs. Look, I'm sorry--" Upon seeing the widening grin on Clark's face, Bruce paused abruptly. "What?"

"You actually thought that?"

There was a sparkle in Clark's eyes just then; one that Bruce hadn't seen there in a while. It warmed his heart to see it back again.

"Honestly? Yeah," Bruce admitted, albeit a little sheepishly. He stopped short of adding that it wasn't the first time he'd ever had a thought like that, and that it certainly wouldn't be the last one. He couldn't admit to such a thing. Batman didn't need help - or, at the very least, this was what he needed everyone to believe. Weakness, or worse helplessness, was not acceptable. It was too dangerous. Especially in Gotham.

"Then why don't you ever let me help?"

Eyes closed, Bruce shook his head slowly. "Because I _can't_ ," he said in a whisper. "You know I can't..."

"Bruce...they don't have to know," Clark replied, in an attempt to reason with his companion. "There are other ways for me to give you a hand than actually, physically, being down there and...using my hands."

"I--" Seemingly changing his mind mid-thought, Bruce sighed. "I'll _think_ about it." Then, pleading, he added, "I really need to go and check on some intel downstairs. I'll only be a few minutes. I promise I'll make it up to--"

The rest of the sentence died in Bruce's throat when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. There was someone in the hall, hiding in the shadows. He took a step forward and squinted, trying to get a better view.

"Barbara?" he asked accusingly.

A guilty-looking Barbara rolled her wheelchair out from the shadows and closer to the entrance of the study. "Hi there," she said, with an awkward wave of her hand. "Dick...uh, Dick asked me to come by. To make sure you weren't about to go off the deep end -" she laughed nervously, then motioned toward Clark "- but I see you've already called in the cavalry..."

"How long have you been hiding over there?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowed. He didn't appreciate being spied on, no matter by whom.

"Not very," she admitted, her usual assurance gradually coming back to her. "Well...long enough to make a few arrangements."

Bruce eyed her suspiciously as she entered the room. He didn't much like the fact that she'd been there long enough to catch any part of the conversation, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it anymore. Arching an inquisitive eyebrow, he waited for her to elaborate about these _arrangements_ she'd mentioned.

Instead, as she came up to him, she whispered, "If you intend to _keep_ him, then I strongly suggest you start spending time with him."

"I--"

"Like, _right now_ for instance," Barbara insisted as she slowly, deliberately, rolled her wheelchair over the tip of Bruce's shoe.

"Ow!" Bruce protested, yanking his foot out from under the wheel. He took one quick look at Clark, then capitulated, "Fine, fine. You're right. I just need a couple minutes to go down to the cave so I can send Tim a few of the--"

Waving a small, handheld device, Barbara cut in, "Already done! In fact, I've got you both covered. Neither of you have anywhere to be tonight." She flashed Bruce a victorious smile before heading to the other end of the room to where Clark was sitting, with Jade in his arms.

In a low, conspiring whisper, Barbara told Clark, "You can thank me later..." She extended her arms toward the baby. "Here, let me have her."

Jade opened her eyes abruptly when Clark handed her over to Barbara. For a moment it looked like the baby was about to start crying again, but Barbara smiled at her and Jade gurgled happily instead.

"See, we're getting along just fine," Barbara said, still smiling at the child. Then, looking up, she added, "You guys go... take the night off. Enjoy yourselves. Oracle's orders."

Rolling his eyes, Bruce wondered when it was that the world had changed so much that everyone else was now ordering him around. Clark got up from the leather couch and headed toward him, an uncertain, almost shy smile on his face - as if he half-expected to be blamed for playing a part in this. Bruce just smiled back instead.

"Hey there, stranger," Clark told him in a soft, gentle tone.

"Hey," Bruce echoed, moving in a little closer. "Missed you."

"It's been a while..."

Inching closer still, Bruce whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"I know." Clark leaned in and brushed a small kiss on Bruce's lips. "It's okay."

"I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better..." This time, when Clark reached for Bruce's lips, it was for a long, slow kiss.

Across the room, Barbara cleared her throat. "Uh, guys... must you?" she complained. "In front of an innocent young lady?"

"Who looks like she's fallen asleep again," said Bruce, raising an amused eyebrow.

"I meant _me_ ," Barbara clarified. Her obviously fake offended air only earned her chuckles from the two men who promptly thanked her and wished her a good evening before exiting the room.

=:=:=

There was still a light on in the study when they came back, several hours later. Groaning, Bruce walked down the hall, all but convinced that he would find Barbara there with the baby, still waiting for Dick who hadn't bothered to show up yet.

"They probably just forgot," Clark commented, guessing that this was the reason behind Bruce's sudden annoyance. Even though Clark could easily have X-rayed and checked in an instant, he chose not to, trusting his instinct instead. He quickly followed Bruce to the study.

But the scene they were greeted with wasn't anything like either of them had expected.

Dick was asleep on the leather couch at the far end of the room, a hand hanging over the armrest. Barbara, also asleep, was sitting across his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. Between them, under their joined hands, was Jade, sleeping just as soundly as the young couple.

Clark looked over to Bruce, and said, "Guess we won't have to worry much about what'll happen to her."

"Apparently."

Bruce lifted a hand up to switch the light off, but stopped mid-motion and let his hand drop back to his side. Instead, he walked into the room, picked up the throw blanket that was draped over the couch's other armrest and covered his three sleeping guests as best he could. Gently, he laid a hand on his adoptive son's shoulder before he turned and left the room, switching the light off this time.

"He's a good kid," Clark said, standing next to Bruce, looking into the darkened room.

"Of course he is." There was a short pause, and as an afterthought, Bruce added, "But I promise you, if he does anything to screw up that little girl, I'm going to have to kick some Nightwing butt." They shared a chuckle at that.

"Come on, grandpa," Clark started, but the suggestion that they should leave never made it past his lips.

"Don't call me that!" Bruce protested immediately.

His outrage only fueled Clark's amusement. "You better get used to it, I think."

"I'm not--"

"Uh huh... We've already established that taking in strays is a family thing, haven't we?" Clark remarked, smiling smugly. "And hence, that's your son over there... and your soon-to-be granddaughter, no doubt."

"I'm too young for that," Bruce complained. He sighed, then started away from the room in the direction of the stairs that lead to the second floor.

He stopped abruptly, a teasing smile spreading across his face, and turned toward Clark. "You realize what that makes you?" Bruce asked. "By association."

"Oh, I... uh..." Clark shook his head, though he knew there was no arguing with that logic. "Fine," he capitulated, "let's take this association upstairs, then. _Grandpa_."

Eyes narrow, Bruce immediately shot back, "You call me that again--"

"And what?" Clark cut him off. There was an amused sparkle in his eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows and added, "You'll turn into a big bad Bat?"

Bruce couldn't help a chuckle. "You wish."

"Yeah, actually... I do," Clark replied, his voice dropping almost a full octave. He closed the distance between them and whispered, "I've missed you..." gently kissing his lover's lips.

Bruce took Clark's hand in his. "Come on," he said, "let's go upstairs."

"Dare I ask if you're planning to make things up to me when we get there?"

"Oh, yes..." Bruce said, leading Clark up the stairs. "All night. Think you can keep up?" He looked over his shoulder and raised a mocking eyebrow.

"I'll try my best," Clark teased back, "But I'm not as young as I used to be, you know..."

"Neither am I, apparently. But as long as we're not completely over the hill..."

They walked into the master bedroom and Bruce gently kicked the door closed behind them.

=> End.


End file.
